


Maybe Two Broken People Can Put Each Other Back Together.

by Shipping_marvelous_things



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Romanogers - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Cute, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mention of Bucky, Natasha Romanov Feels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Feels, my babies deserve to be together, smh, trigger warning, you guys will learn that angst is my thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipping_marvelous_things/pseuds/Shipping_marvelous_things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one sees past their tough facades, except each other. Eventually they can't take it any more and find solace in each other's presence, and they learn that they can do anything, Together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Two Broken People Can Put Each Other Back Together.

“Don't go,” he whispered softly as she walked away. She didn't hear him, even if she did, she new that whatever they had could never work out. 

...

He was God's righteous man, the epitome of goodness, faith, hope. The people believed in him, looked up to him, he was their strength.   
But no one knows what happens behind the curtain, no one sees past the man who saved America. No one sees the hurt, the struggle to get up each day, the guilt, memories of fallen comrades, the war. It was killing him from the inside out, but no one could see, he couldn't let them see. He couldn't let them see that America's Golden Boy wasn't so shiny after all. He threw himself into his work, being an Avenger, saving the world, acting like he had everything planned out. Because sometimes, the Star Spangled Man, didn't have a plan.

...

She was a killer, relentless, lies dripped from her tongue as honey off a spoon. People hated her, shouting names at her when she walked down the street. “Murderer! You don't deserve to be alive! You should have died in Russia!” They all ran along the same line. There was no hope for her, she didn't deserve redemption.  
No one saw the stories behind those green eyes. The torture, the anguish, having to murder innocent children, the suffering she had to endure. But no, it was better to be feared than to be thought weak. No one saw the sleepless nights, flashbacks, the anxiety, the depression. No one saw how much she resented herself, wished, hoped, that she would be taken in battle, die a courageous death, be forgotten like all of her brothers in arms in Russia. She wouldn't be missed, at least that's what she thought.

...

He prayed each night to a God that he wasn't sure he believed in any more. He prayed that maybe some day they could be together, that they could be each other's strength.

...

She stared at the ceiling, the paint was cracked, peeling apart, just like her. She thought about him, she wondered if he did too. She fell into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares. Ghosts from her past haunting her, never loosening their vice.

...

His phone rang, he was to report to HQ in three hours, apparently a mission only for Fury's best agents. He pulled himself out of bed, it was three o'clock in the morning. He was grateful that he had a mission, it was something to take his mind off of everything, off of her. He went to work out for an hour before he had to start getting ready.

...

She woke up sweating, gun drawn at an imaginary person, no one was there. She looked over, it had just been her phone. She picked it up, it was Fury, she needed to arrive at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility in three hours. She was happy for the distraction, finally a mission, something she was good at. Something she could really sink her teeth into. She hoped it would be something challenging, maybe something she wouldn't be able to complete, something to end the miserable life she had thought she was living.

...

He got into his car at 5, and started to make his way to Fury. He put on a disc with swing music on it. He was able to crack a small smile, listening to something familiar, something from his time, not the rubbish youngsters listened to these days.

...

She got onto her motorcycle and put earphones on, she turned up Halsey as loud as it would go, loud enough to drown out her thoughts. "You can't wake up, this is not a dream, you are part a machine, you are not a human being." The words spoke of who she was, who they had made her to be. She wasn't a person, she was a machine, she was molded into a weapon. She was like fire, enthralling, beautiful, dangerous. Lovely to look at, but if you get too close, you'll get burned. 

...

He walked through the door of the building. He walked past excited interns, gawking at the fact that THE Captain America had just been less than four feet from them. He greeted everyone politely, but didn't stop to chat.

...

She stuffed the keys to her bike in her pocket and walked into the building. Unlike the Captain, everyone avoided her, they knew what she was capable of. She wasn't greeted by adoring eyes, instead ones filled with fear, she hated it. 

...

“Captain Rogers,” the Director greeted him, “Fury,” he greeted back, “We'll begin in a minute, we need to wait for your partner to arrive.” Before he had time to ask, someone walked through the door. 

...

Her eyes locked with his, and for a moment they were lost for words, she thought that he was looking for his best friend, evidently not.

...

He looked at her face, she looked tired. He had no doubt she was, he had read her file, he knew only a fraction of what she had gone through. He also knew that it was not something any normal person would be able to survive, but Natasha Romanoff was no ordinary person, she was special.  
He didn't view her as everyone else did, he saw her as who she was, not who the public made her out to be. He saw her kindness, her compassion, her desire to do good, to wipe out all the red in her ledger. He saw her brokenness, he saw the hurt, the sleepless nights, the suffering.   
When he realized he was staring he looked away. He stood up and shook her hand, “Nice to see you again Natasha,” he smiled, “You too Steve.”

...

As their hands were locked it was Natasha's turn to analyze Steve. Like her, she didn't see him as everyone else saw him. He wasn't the great Captain America who never did anything wrong, who never faltered. He wasn't perfect, he had flaws, and the worst thing was that he knew it. She noticed the bags under his eyes, she noticed how his forehead creased in concern for the people he cared about. She saw his struggles, how desperately he wanted an escape, just like she did.

...

After their moment was interrupted by Fury greeting Natasha he explained their mission. They were to find a Turkish arms dealer at a banquet. They would pose as a loving couple, soon to be married. They left in an hour.

...

The pair had a chance to talk on the plane, “How've you been Steve? Found a girl yet?” she asked, playfully pushing him with her shoulder, he chuckled, “No, not yet.” “Aaaw C'mon! Seriously though? No one special yet?” she pushed, “Nah, not ready for the whole dating thing yet.” She smirked, “If you say so!” he raised his eyebrows, “Okay then. My turn. Who's the lucky guy in your life?” he asked her, “Ha! Don't be ridiculous Rogers, I don't have a guy,” she smirked, “Oh so you have several?” he joked. She clutched her chest, “I'm horrified that you'd even ask!” she couldn't hold in her smile. Soon enough they were actually enjoying themselves, and for the first time in a long time, they both laughed.

...

They arrived in Turkey that evening, and before they left the plane Steve turned to Natasha. “Welcome to Turkey Mrs. Rogers,” he smiled as he handed her the ring she would use for the mission, “Why thank you Mr. Rogers,” she said, taking the beautiful piece of his jewelry out of his hand.

...

The 'couple' walked into the fanciest hotel on the block. Unlike Steve, Natasha had been to places like this more times than she could count. Only for missions, she would stay in the rooms that cost as much as some people could have spent on groceries for a month. Given the choice, she would never have stayed in them, but of course, she was never given a choice. A mission was a mission, and a mission was never to be questioned. 

...

The soldier looked at the ornate paintings and chandeliers that adorned the ceiling. He wasn't used to this, the high life. He was used to quiet nights at home, his simple, practical, to some a little mundane home. His face was one of total awe as he looked around.

...

The redhead reached for his hand and dragged him to the counter. She spoke fluent Turkish when she spoke to the receptionist. She pulled Steve close, and the lady behind the table made what the blonde interpreted to be a compliment. He wasn't entirely sure, so he just smiled.

...

The two made their way into their room. Steve's face was that of total horror when he saw that there was only one bed. “Really Steve?” Natasha raised her eyebrow, “We're supposed to be a loving couple, it wouldn't smell right if I had asked for separate beds.”

...

She had made it sound like she was fine with it, but really she wasn't. She didn't want to sleep in the same bed with Steve, for fear of hurting him. She was scared she would wake up to a lifeless body next to her, only to find the man's blood, who she loved-No she didn't love him, that's what she told herself. Love was for children.

...

He too was afraid. Afraid that if she saw him, weak, vulnerable, that she's think less of him. Judge him for not being strong, for not being the soldier the world wanted him to be. Natasha was the one person he could possibly love, even though every day he tried to convince himself otherwise.

...

The broken girl inside her needed comfort, yes, but the woman she was molded into despised the idea. She was not deserving of love, especially not from a man like Steve.

...

Each of the pair had a shower, and got dressed into pyjamas. They both made sure that they had brought things that were appropriate.  
Funny enough they had both chosen to wear a pair of trousers, and a t shirt. They chuckled when they saw each other's choice of clothing. “I like your style Rogers,” she smirked, “Likewise,” he smiled a large puppy dog smile.  
“Sooo,” Steve said awkwardly, “Would you like me to sleep on the floor?” “No! Not at all!” she paused, “I'd hate to give the old man a sore back,” he rolled his eyes, and looked questioningly at her. “No,” she said more seriously, “It's best for the mission if we sleep in the same bed.”

...

Red, that's all she saw, all she felt. Red, like blood, like the blood of her victims, oozing over her hands. She heard screams, blood curdling, menacing screams, of the people whose lives she had taken. Before she knew it there was a gun pointed to her head, and Bang! She woke up in a frenzy, looking for the source of the danger. Instead, she was met with Steve's concerning eyes, boring into her own green orbs.

...

For the second time, Steve saw the real woman behind the Black Widow, the first was the day they were in Sam's house, running from Hydra. She was not the strong woman everyone thought her to be. No doubt, she was incredibly strong, much more so than him, but she was in pain. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes, he saw how desperately she wanted someone to love her despite her flaws.

...

She looked up at the man who, for so long, had tried to make her see him as someone strong, but now, he actually looked broken. His baby blue eyes hid so many years of pain, pain from losing all of the people he cared about, seeing that they've grown old, and he didn't look a day over 30. It wasn't fair! Steve was the best person she knew, and he didn't deserve to have gone through hell and back.

...

They had been silent, just staring at each other for a moment, until the soldier broke the silence. “Are you okay?” his voice was laced with concern, “Just a nightmare Steve. Don't worry about me, go back to sleep,” she turned over, so he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes.   
“I can't sleep,” he whispered. She turned over to look at Steve, his eyes were closed as if he was reliving painful memories. “Every time I close my eyes, all I see is all of the people I left behind, the people I haven't been able to save. The people I'm terrified to lose,” he avoided mentioning her. “None of that's your fault Steve,” she repeated the words she had said to him the day they had been kidnapped by Hydra.  
He finally opened his eyes and looked at her. “And none of what has happened to you is your fault Natasha,” he said softly, “You are not the monster your nightmares make you out to be. You're special, you're a good person Nat,” he paused, trying to choose his next words carefully. “I care about you Natasha and I hate to see you in pain. You don't deserve it, any of it.” Tears were flowing out of his eyes, he looked shattered.  
“And neither are you Steve,” she spoke up, “You are the best, most kind-hearted person I know. And you have endured so much more pain than you should have. You deserve none of it,” she lifted her hand to his face and wiped a tear away with her thumb.

...

“We'll be okay Steve,” she paused, “Maybe two broken people can put each other back together.” Her suggestion was innocent, genuine, and it meant the world to him. He sniffled, “Maybe we can,” his voice was hopeful.

...

Natasha moved closer to him and hugged him, giving his head a kiss, “We can get through this, together,” the word felt foreign to her lips, until he repeated it, “Together.” It was a promise, hope for a better tomorrow.

...

She snuggled her face in the nape of his neck. He breathed her smell in, she smelled of roses. He made a daring move, not sure of what her reaction would be. He put his finger under her chin, so she was looking at him. He leaned forward slowly and captured her lips with his. She froze momentarily, but she kissed him back. It was soft, tender, nothing like her past relationships. She felt like she was floating. After a few seconds they parted. Natasha smiled against his lips, “Together,” the word was sacred now, “Together.”

...

They fell asleep like that, her head resting on his chest, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It felt right, and for the first time in years, they slept through the night, no monsters from their pasts trying to claw their way out.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? Did it give you all the feels? I hope so!  
> Comments and Kudos mean a lot!   
> Feel free to request (with no smut though..gotta keep it clean guys)  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> And these two just need to happen! But until then, reading/writing fanfiction will have to do.


End file.
